The big news on the writing front is that a story of mine will be published on-line on October 14. I'll post a link to it once it's live.
Now that I'm feeling like I've fully recovered from last week's stupid cold, I have to get back into the swing of writing new stories, marketing stories, and going to the gym. I did go to the gym last Friday night, and I was sore the next day from reminding various muscles what a bench press or cable pull was.
The weekend brought a revelation for The Child.
Scene: (Leaving a social gathering. John is waving to D.R. and K.R. as they walk past the car.)
The Child: “...Wait. _That_ was D.R.?”
John: “Well, yeah; like I said, we used to have these really great religious discussions about faith and grace and transcendent—“
T.C.: “Uh, I thought that was years ago at Arcosanti, and you were tossing back drinks and talking about (air quotes) religion (end air quotes) until they threw you out at two in the morning into a big pile of homeless drunks.”
J (Pretty sure that fezes, hookahs, beaded curtains, and sitar background music is part of this re-imagined history): “Oh, no; we were at Turtles after Wordos.”
T.C.: “What?! Only old hippies go there. I thought you were drinking in a biker bar.”
J (adding a black leather jacket and chaps to his own re-imagined religious discussion apparel, and giving D a poet shirt and black, wide-brimmed Jesuit Priest's hat), : “I drank tequila; D.R. drank Diet Pepsi. (Recoloring this history in a Casablanca noir sepia tone) Did you think D. was some kind of Hipster Priest with an unbuttoned shirt showing a gold bling cross dangling over his hairy chest?”
T.C: “I thought you guys were cool...”
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